


Desolation Row

by claire_debonair



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-25 21:35:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/643211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claire_debonair/pseuds/claire_debonair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikey doesn't realize there's someone in his hotel room until he's all the way in, door shutting behind him with a click that's painfully loud in the silence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desolation Row

Mikey doesn't realize there's someone in his hotel room until he's all the way in, door shutting behind him with a click that's painfully loud in the silence. He pauses with his hand on the light switch, listening to the faint noises of the last few extras milling outside the set just down the street, and wonders who the hell could be in his room.

Before he can get his hand to move, the bedside lamp is flicked on, and-

"Frank? The fuck, man. How did you get in?"

Frank grins up at Mikey from where he's sitting on the bed, the dim light reflecting off the pins on his costume. "Asked for a key."

"Easy as that?" Mikey wants to move, get out of the stiff leather jacket and back into his own clothes like Gerard had managed to do earlier, but something in Frank's smile makes him stay exactly where he is. Frank stands up, shrugging.

"You know how close they think we all are." Mikey can feel the flush in his cheeks, tries to fight it down as Frank runs a hand through his hair and sends it into more of a Frank-like mess. "Fucking stylists; I looked like you used to, 'cept cooler."

"Fuck you," Mikey says, then wishes he hadn't. Something's going on here, and it's making him feel off-balance. Still wearing their costumes isn't helping any, not with the way Frank's looking at him, because his subconscious is already forming links between the chains, the leather and those fucking pants Gerard was wearing, and the atmosphere of just not giving a fuck even when they got arrested.

Which was cool, and he's not just talking about the metal of the handcuffs.

When Mikey looks back at Frank, he has to blink a couple of times. Frank's pulled the _don't fuck with me_ attitude back on, the one that's gonna come through clear as day on all of them in the video, and he just—he looks hot as fuck, like that's anything new, but now he looks dangerous as well, and _oh shit_ Mikey's in trouble.

It's not like this is anything new, in it's most basic form; they've all messed around with each other ( _almost_ all, Mikey thinks with an ache), but it was just that, messing. This, though...this is planned, done with serious intent, _thought about_.

"Earth to Mikey," Frank whispers, and Mikey flinches. He's so close, almost touching, a bare inch between them. Mikey can smell the leather of Frank's jacket, the tang of warm metal chains and pins suddenly a lot more noticeable in the space between them. The blood roars in Mikey's ears as Frank grins at him, not doing anything more than standing so fucking close and just _smiling._

Mikey starts finding it hard to breathe.

"The hell are you doing?" he asks, trying to find some solid footing in this, but it comes out uneven and hoarse, and he _knows_ he's lost even before Frank's grin turns sharp.

"Getting closer."

Frank's hands are hot on Mikey's hips, the heat seeping through his jeans and sending a rush of blood south, like it hadn't all been heading there anyway. He's hard, the rub of leather on his arms as he goes to reach for Frank simply adding to the thrill. Frank shakes his head, starts pushing Mikey backwards gently but firmly.

Mikey goes, letting himself be moved, because the attitude Frank's wearing like a second skin is really fucking persuasive. He's headed for the wall, he can work that much out, and he tries to keep his steps even so that he doesn't hit it too hard—

_What the fucking fuck._

"What-"

"Shh, Mikes; don't spoil the fun." Frank's voice is low, dark, curling through the room as Mikey freezes. There's someone standing behind him, someone he hit instead of the wall. He starts to turn his head, to see, because he can't bring himself to disobey Frank and move away, but Frank's hand on his cheek stops him. "Ah-ah, you're spoiling it."

Frank kisses him then, distracting him from trying to work out who it is he's leaning against, whose chest is against his back and whose thighs spread apart just that little bit more so they bracket his own. It could be anyone, not that he's likely to know with Frank's hot and clever tongue stroking heat into his mouth and body, and definitely not with the implied command of _don't think, don't speak, don't do anything but feel._

Mikey feels Frank's other hand leave his hip, sliding back to- to rest on the hip of whoever is behind him, Mikey realizes. Their hand moves forward to rest on his other hip, not doing anything except resting. He almost recognizes something about that gesture, but Frank bites his lip hard and the thought flees.

"Pay attention, please." Frank's tone is mocking as he steps back, thumb tracing the edge of his redslick lower lip. He places a hand on Mikey's chest when Mikey starts to pull away, getting more uncomfortable by the moment about exactly who it is that he's pressed against. "Keep him there?"

It takes Mikey a moment to realize that the last comment wasn't directed at him, and by that time there are two strong hands bracketing his upper arms. Mikey watches Frank step backwards towards the bed, shrugging out of his jacket as he goes, and pulls slightly. The grip tightens enough that Mikey knows he's not going anywhere.

"Frank, seriously, this is fucked up." Frank doesn't answer, just grins and looks over Mikey's shoulder, hands shoved in his pockets and an eyebrow raised. Someone answers, though.

"Shall we stop playing, then?"

Mikey whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut.

"I don't think he wants to stop," Frank says, voice muffled like he's taking his top off. The hands holding Mikey still let go, but only long enough to move down to his hips, and _how_ could he not have known who this is? Even with the costume, and the different attitude that matches Frank's, he should've known they were there the instant he walked in the room, let alone when he got pushed back against them.

Gerard kisses the back of Mikey's neck before resting his chin on Mikey's shoulder, asking, "You don't really want to stop, do you? It's just going to be so much fun."

"Gee-" he stutters over the name as Gerard nips at his neck, tongue flicking over each mark. "This isn't, we can't, you don't—"

"There a sentence in there, Mikey, or do you just want me to hear your voice?"

Mikey doesn't know what he wants to say, all the excuses and reasons why they shouldn't be doing this getting blown to hell by the feeling of his fucking _brother_ behind him. Frank's just watching them, eyes flicking from one to the other like he's in front of the TV or something. Mikey tries to keep his breathing even, tries to formulate the words to make this stop, like it _should_ , and then catches sight of Frank's hands.

His fingers are twitching, half curling into fists over and over, like he wants to reach out but can't. Mikey wonders what's stopping him, because a few minutes ago he was the one in total control, but now-

Now that Gerard's come into this, _he's_ the one calling the shots. Mikey can feel it in the way Gee holds him close with hands tight on his hips and his chin hooked over Mikey's shoulder. It's an absurdly familiar pose, one they've been in dozens of times, but he's never felt Gee hard against him before, nor had Frank watching them with such intensity.

"C'mon, Mikey." Gerard shifts his hands slightly, sliding them up and underneath Mikey's t-shirt, then down so that the tips of his fingers slide under the waistband of Mikey's jeans. "Please?"

Mikey _shivers_ , the word rolling off Gee's tongue and through Mikey's body with a rich roughness that makes him remember Gee onstage a short while ago, all that manic, volatile energy wrapped tightly around him as he digs his fingers into Mikey's hipbones. He feels Gee nod, just the once, and Frank grins, looking almost feral in the dim light. He steps forward and grips a fistful of Mikey's t-shirt, tugging against Gerard's hold just enough to make a gap of an inch or so between he and Mikey.

"This has gotta come off," Frank says, pulling the jacket off Mikey's shoulders. Gerard won't let go, though, so it gets stuck between them, pinning Mikey's arms to his sides. "Gee, let him go for a minute?"

"I like him like this," he answers, one hand leaving Mikey's hip to pull the jacket a little tighter, bunching it up and limiting the movement in Mikey's arms even more. Mikey bites his lip against another whimper, watching Frank run his tongue along his lower lip, staring over his shoulder at Gee.

"Yeah," Frank murmurs, "yeah, okay. This is good."

Gerard moves, placing his feet a little further from the wall to brace himself as Frank steps in close, right up against Mikey's front the way Gerard is pressed along his back. He can't feel how hard Gee is any more, the jacket getting in the way, and Mikey _wants_ to be able to feel that again, know that Gerard is hard from having Frank and his little brother like this.

"Ready?" Gerard asks, one hand moving over hot skin to splay across Mikey's chest as Frank drops to his knees and the air leaves Mikey's lungs in a sudden whoosh. He's seen that before, the smoothness with which Frankie can go down, but everything here feels raw and new.

Frank gets his jeans open in a matter of seconds, hands quick and nimble in a way that makes Mikey's breathing, already strained, become shallow in anticipation. He barely registers Gee's other hand leaving his hip to make way for Frank's as Frank flashes him a dark look and slides his so very talented mouth down, sucking sloppy and dirty like it's a back-alley blowjob after the show, adrenaline overtaking technique.

Gerard's voice in his ear pulls him back from the sparks Frank's tongue is sending through him, and then sends him flying higher still. "He wanted to do this in the cop's van, with the door locked and you sitting between my legs against the back."

"Why- why didn't you?" Mikey pants out, digging his nails into his palms as Frank tries to laugh with Mikey's cock still in his mouth, the vibrations making Mikey's knees go week. Gerard grins against Mikey's neck, tongue flicking over the marks he'd made moments earlier.

"I made him wait."

Frank pulls off, mouth shiny with spit and flushed. He wipes the edge of his lip with a thumb, looking up with a wicked smile. "He did, the asshole. Would've been more fun in there."

"But we can do more here," Gerard answers, teeth grazing sensitive skin.

Mikey squeezes his eyes shut against the onslaught of Gee's hand hot against his chest, fingers burning their impressions onto his skin as his temperature rises, and Frank's mouth back on him, wet and slick and as fucking good as he always is. Frank's hands keep him from thrusting, getting _more_ , and the jacket pinning his arms stops him from feeling Gerard, and without both or even one of those things, it feels like he's going to be stuck on the brink for the rest of the night.

Then he feels the slide of leather and chain around his neck, silky smooth and oh so promising; he hadn't known if the others knew why he'd chosen it to wear, hadn't dared to think any of them might have picked up on it, not even after Bob had flicked it a speculative glance.

The leather strap of the collar feels bulky against his throat after the links of the chain, unnerving pressure as he swallows hard. Frank moves away again, keeping the suction strong until his mouth slides off with an audible 'pop' that pulls a strained gasp from Mikey's throat. He's too far gone to do anything but let his head drop back onto Gerard's shoulder, body restlessly moving as he veers between trying to move closer to Frank and his _mouth_ and getting the solid warmth of Gee behind him.

Gerard tilts his head and flicks his tongue over the edge of the leather, little darts of heat that make Mikey choke on air as Gee's tongue slips against skin more than the collar. An odd texture against his temple, through the soft strands of Gee's hair, tells him Gee's even put the band-aid back on, so completely back in character that even if Mikey, in some moment of madness, told him to stop, Gerard probably wouldn't.

Gee laughs softly against his neck as his hand slides up Mikey's side, over his shirt, damp with sweat, and over his shoulder. Mikey feels the tug as Gerard hooks a finger through the chain, swallows again and forces his eyes open just in time to see Frank stand.

His eyes glitter in the dim lamplight, fixed on Mikey's, his breathing deep and uneven. Mikey feels exposed, shockingly hard and still teetering on the edge. He can see the line of Frank's dick through his jeans, wonders why Frank didn't have his hand in them as he sucked Mikey off- well, almost. It's not how he usually is; it's like he's holding back, waiting for something _more,_ the way Mikey is.

"Go on," Frank says hoarsely, and it takes Mikey's focus away from Gerard for a moment.

It's long enough.

Gerard pulls downwards with the finger hooked through the choke-chain, just enough that the odd pressure builds so Mikey can feel the edges of the collar stark around his throat. He swallows reflexively, whimpers as best he can when it verges on _painful_.

Frank's groan is loud in the still room, his hands gripping tight where they still rest on Mikey's hips. Gerard presses his blunt nails into Mikey's chest briefly, enough to make him shudder, then says to Frank: "Down."

Frank goes.

Back on his knees, eyes never leaving Mikey's as he does what he's been fucking _told_ , except fancier this time, using all the tricks he knows (and some he's been taught) to practically drag Mikey's orgasm from him. Mikey strains his hands back to touch Gerard's thighs, holding on as best he can as the pressure around his neck increases and makes his vision sparkle at the edges.

It's too much and not enough, lifting everything he's feeling above the usual collection of sensations and into something he's not sure he can handle but at the same time keeping him grounded, held tight against Gee's solidness and reminded that right now, with Frank on his knees and Gee's fingers tight in the chain, he's being owned by both of them as surely as if he signed a contract.

Maybe he did; maybe that's what Frank says around him, what finally sends him flying with a choked groan as Gee doesn't ease up on the pressure until Frank leans back on his heels and swipes at his mouth. Mikey sucks in air as Gerard's hand releases the chain and moves to tangle in his hair, pulling his head around just far enough to land a hard kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Frank swallowed as messily as he sucked, so when he leans in Mikey can feel sticky smears across his own lips and cheeks, tastes the salty bitterness of himself on Frankie's tongue. It's more of a clash than a kiss; Frank's balance isn't all that good, his hips stuttering as Mikey moves a thigh between his legs and pushes up ever so slightly, and Gee won't let go enough for Mikey's jacket to come off completely, still held between them, half-forgotten.

Mikey moves his leg, rubbing against the bulge in Frank's pants, and feels a little more coherent as he hears Frank groan, ducking his head to mimic Gerard's earlier action and nip down the column of Frank's neck. Mikey stills as Gerard _growls_ , feeling the noise through his body as Frank looks up. He's backing off before Mikey feels Gerard shifting, pushing himself upright and moving them both away from the wall.

Mikey's legs aren't all that solid, although most of the bone-melting heat has faded to a dull thrum that makes him edgy. Gerard pulls him towards the bed as Frank sits on the edge, legs placed apart with his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped and hanging between them, still not making any move to get himself off. Mikey bites his lip and looks at him, wanting to ask, to know why Frank's being so... _obedient._

Gerard's fingertips are like brands again, underneath his chin and turning Mikey's face towards him. "Eyes on me, Mikey."

"You're-" Mikey cuts himself off.

"I'm what?" Gerard asks, hands rough as he pushes Mikey's jacket off, releasing his arms. "Not done?" He grips the edge of Mikey's t-shirt and pulls, Mikey barely managing to get his suddenly heavy arms up in time to stop himself from getting tangled in it. "Crossing a line?" He curls his fingers over the top of Mikey's jeans, flicking a look downwards and then back at Mikey's eyes. He kneels swiftly, pulling pants and boxers down with him; Mikey steps out of them more by instinct than by any higher brain function, automatically toeing off his shoes as he does so. He's already half-hard again. Gerard stands, tossing the jeans to one side and sliding his hands up Mikey's neck to grip his hair tightly. "Going to fuck you?"

Frank groans, watching them with a fierce intensity Mikey can feel burning against his skin.

Gerard yanks him in for a brutal kiss, taking and claiming and _owning_ in ways Mikey hadn't dared even fantasize about, nothing like how he'd imagined his brother would kiss. His hands come up to hold onto the edges of Gerard's leather jacket, keeping him close enough to feel the rough friction of denim on his cock.

When Gerard pulls away, Mikey is left panting for air, watching hungrily as Gee pulls off his own jacket, then pauses with the button on his jeans open. "Get rid of Frank's pants," he says, and Mikey couldn't resist if he tried, not with the silkyrough voice Gerard is still using. The command in his tone, though, makes Mikey want to _push_ , just a little, and see what happens.

He keeps his eyes on Gerard as he reaches down towards Frank, pulling him upright and closing his mouth over Frank's as he slides his hands between their bodies and fumbles with the fastening of Frank's jeans. Frank's eager, tongue pressing into Mikey's mouth, making noises low in his throat as he lifts his arms to loop around Mikey's neck.

Mikey's lost in exploring the mingled tastes of himself and Frank when he feels the sudden pressure on his throat, jerking away with a strangled moan and widewide eyes.

He'd forgotten about the collar, the chain resting between his shoulder blades.

Gerard leans in just enough for Mikey to feel the heat of his skin ( _bare skin_ , his head supplies, _oh god_ ) along his back and legs, and tugs the chain enough to make Mikey tilt his head back in an attempt to lessen the pressure. Frank watches with eyes so dark they look all pupil, jeans hanging loosely on his hips.

"That's not how we play, Mikey," Gerard whispers. His hand smoothing down Mikey's side until it rests once more on his hip. The simple touch seems so much more arousing now that it's skin-on-skin, not that it wasn't arousing before. Mikey's as hard as before, feels the pounding in his veins building higher and higher as Gerard lets the chain go. "Bed."

Frank's smile gets wider as Gerard pushes Mikey to the bed and presses him down onto the mattress with his weight, his own grin sharp as Mikey's hips arch to feel the slide of Gee's cock against his own, blissful friction that makes his eyes flutter shut. Gerard lets him, settling between Mikey's thighs but keeping himself from any other contact.

The dipping of the bed as Frank slides on makes Mikey struggle to open his eyes, watching as Frank settles alongside them, tight against Mikey's body and looking practically edible. Mikey wants to lean in desperately, to feel that clever mouth against his own while he rubs off against his brother, _oh_ , how that makes his skin tingle.

In the haze of sensation and Frank's mouth on his shoulder, teeth making a tender mark he soothes with his tongue, Mikey doesn't register anything else until Gerard leans back and pushes his legs wider, sending him shuddering with the implications.

"Please, Gee, I- _oh_ -"

Gerard smiles up at Mikey with a flash of teasingly dark eyes, pressing another kiss to Mikey's stomach as his slick finger presses in just a little deeper. Frank pushes himself up onto his elbows and leans over, muffling Mikey's small whimpers with a deep kiss. He's caught between Frank and Gerard, skin flushed and his breathing labored as Gee slides another finger in alongside the first, curling them _up_ , and Frank bites at his lip.

It's claustrophobic, almost, and Mikey doesn't know what to pay attention to until Gerard says Frank's name, with a warning note that sends a shiver down Mikey's spine even as he opens his eyes a fraction and reaches up to hook his arms over Gerard's shoulder and pull him down. Gerard doesn't move, holding himself braced on firm arms, but leans in until his mouth is a mere hairsbreadth from Mikey's, hair falling around them until all Mikey can see, or wants to see, is his brother.

"Do you want this, Mikey?"

Frank's hand slides sinuously across Mikey's chest as he strains to close the distance which seems like an entire room, keeping him down. He swallows hard, gathering enough mental function to speak. Gerard watches, eyes heated and one knee firmly nestled against Mikey's dick, rocking in minute movements that destroy Mikey's coherency.

" _Please_ , I want, come _on.._ " Mikey tilts his hips again, grins at the startled flicker that crosses Gee's face, control splintering for a moment as he rocks back against Mikey. Then he stills, dipping quickly to kiss the tip of Mikey's nose, almost sweet if it weren't for the near-painful state of Mikey's cock and the burning desire for _more_ visible in the tense lines of Gee's body.

Frank's still pressed against Mikey's side, his own hard-on sliding wet against Mikey's thigh as he rocks his hips a little. Mikey twists his head to see him, knowing he's there not quite enough, but Gee's hair blocks all but slivers of view. He can hear him, though. Frank's voice is honey thick and cajoling, not quite covering the arousal that Mikey can feel in the compact body beside him.

"You have to tell him, Mikes," Frank murmurs, "you've got to tell him what you want."

"And how long," Gerard adds, the words insinuating themselves into Mikey's hazy awareness. "This isn't new." He sounds teasing and slightly mocking, his knee pressing harder and shifting one arm down to press back inside Mikey, the burn and fullness adding to the sudden flames of humiliation rushing through Mikey's body.

"Why?" Mikey near-sobs, and feels Frank laugh against his skin.

"Because I want to know." Gerard answers, challenge clear in his tone. His fingers move, thrusting in and out with torturous slowness, stretching with a practiced ease that's well on its way to driving Mikey insane, even without the added distraction of Gee's voice and Frank being so close. "I want to know if you've wanted this for as long as I have, if you've watched me the way I've watched you and wanted to touch and fuck your brother so much it _hurts_."

Mikey groans, arching against the hand Frank still has restraining him, hips stuttering upwards as Gerard twists his fingers along with the last words, striking against the sensitive bundle of nerves in a maddeningly perfect movement. "Yes, _yes,_ I have, please, now, _please_ , I _want-_ "

"Good," Gerard says with an almost vicious twist of his lips, and then amid Gerard's forceful kiss and Frank's sharp bite to his shoulder, Mikey is almost overwhelmed as Gerard pushes in and _fucks_ him, long, hard thrusts that drive out all other thoughts from Mikey's head except them. He obeys mindlessly when Frank tells him roughly to lower his arms, gasping hoarsely as Gerard pauses a moment to pin his hands to the bed before changing to short, sharp thrusts, his hips twisting as Gerard keeps the rhythm steady and even.

" _Please,_ Gee," Mikey begs, desperate for more, for Gerard to lose control and give him everything.

He shudders again and again, eyes tightly shut. His world narrows down to the terrifyingly good burn of Gerard's cock inside him, the way Frank's hips are rocking, rubbing himself off against Mikey's side with small sounds and his hand still pressed onto Mikey's chest in a way that's almost too hot for Mikey to understand.

Frank comes first, warm wetness against Mikey's thigh as he presses open mouth kisses to Mikey's shoulder, up to his neck, leaning in closesoclose again. Gerard's maddeningly smooth thrusts don't speed or slow, until it's all Mikey can do to keep breathing. Frank's hand moves, lifts away from his chest as Mikey whimpers at its loss, Gerard dropping his head to bite at his lip and swallow the sound.

Frank walks his fingers across Mikey's sweat slick skin until they curl underneath the collar, forgotten in the rush and fire of being fucked by his godamned _brother_ , and oh how Hell has never looked so welcoming, if this is how he gets there.

Frank's fingers leave the collar, moving away, then; "Can I?"

Even as Gerard says "yes" against Mikey's mouth, eyes wicked, Mikey is forgetting how to stay sane as he shudders and arches, because Frank's _asking permission_ , and it makes him wonder if they've all had to ask for his brother's permission before they touched him.

Then he feels the pressure on his throat, a gentle tightness that builds until he can't pull in enough air for his labored lungs without straining, Frank's other hand slipping between him and Gerard to wrap around his cock and stroke with a pressure equal to the one at his throat. It's all too much, too good, and it sends him spinning into white-edged darkness, hooking his legs over Gerard's hips and urging him on until Gerard's hands bite into his wrists and Mikey feels him go taut as a guitar string.

He loses time after that, somewhere after Gerard kisses him with bruising force, Frank draping himself over Gee's back to look down at Mikey with a mixture of satisfaction, possessiveness and wickedness, setting his teeth to the juncture of Gerard's neck and shoulder as Mikey watches. He comes back to himself with Gerard and Frank wrapped around him, holding him down.

Gerard looks at him for a moment, all messy hair and the guy Mikey's wanted since they were fucking _kids_ and shared a room, for fuck's sake, then leans in to kiss him again. Mikey lets him with a soft noise, feeling Frank's hand curving over his hip and nuzzling at the back of his neck.

"You belong to me I believe..." Gerard sings softly when Mikey pulls back.

Mikey pulls together enough motor function to hit him with a limp hand, feeling entirely too satiated and fucked-out, not to mention fiercely pleased he's not the only one wanting to touch his brother, to do anything else.

"Don't quote fucking Bob Dylan at me after sex," he retorts, and sees Gerard's eyes widen. Mikey groans as Frank pulls at the chain again, tipping his head back against him and moaning as Gerard leans in to mouth at his neck. "Fucking costume."

"I like it," Gerard says, lifting his mouth away momentarily. "It's...useful."

Frank twists to lick at the other side of Mikey's neck, over the rapidly blooming marks Gerard had made what seems both an eternity and a mere second ago, and when he speaks, the gusts of his breath over still-sensitive skin makes Mikey shiver against Gerard.

 


End file.
